


12:51

by vindicatedtruth (behindtintedglass)



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6030321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behindtintedglass/pseuds/vindicatedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"... and I thought my feelings were gone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	12:51

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcIC9gesPpw) of the same title by Krissy and Ericka

**_Scrolling through my cellphone for the twentieth time today  
_** **_Reading the text you sent me again  
_ ** ******_Though I memorized it anyway_**  

* * *

 

David receives the text message at exactly 12:51, almost an hour after midnight.  It’s the night before they’re due to fly to Chile, and he can’t sleep.

He looks at the screen, and his heart jumps when he sees who the sender is.  

He knows he should know better.  He knows that swiping at the screen to read that message is going to break him.

He reads it anyway.

He stares.  His hand starts to shake.  His legs refuse to hold him up, and he sits down heavily on his bed.

He spends the rest of the night reading that message again… and again… and again.

The morning after, as he’s hauling the few baggages he’s allowed to bring, he stuffs the phone at the very bottom of the bag where he’s not allowed to use it for two years, except for emergencies.

It doesn’t matter, David thinks as he watches the rest of the city fly by in a blur as their ride takes them to the airport.

It doesn’t matter… because he has the entire text memorised.

The corners of his eyes begin to sting and he swallows against the sudden tightness of his throat.  He leans his forehead against the window of the car and replays it in his head, over and over and over again.

The text begins like this:

_‘I’m still in love with you.’_

 

* * *

**_It was an afternoon in December  
_** **_When it reminded you of the day  
_** **_When we bumped into each other  
_ ** **_But you didn't say “hi” 'cause I looked away_**

* * *

 

 _‘_ _I know I shouldn’t be saying this right now.  I know the timing sucks.  Hell, I know I shouldn’t have told you I love you back then, if I had known it would lead to… this._

_Fuck, what the hell happened, Arch?_

_I miss you.  I miss your texts, your calls, your e-mails, your voicemails.  I even miss your tweets.  I miss your stupid healthy food and your stupid neckties.  I miss the way you’d laugh at my jokes no matter how corny they are.  I miss the way you’d light up when you talk about your sisters.  I miss the way you’d give me the most challenging crossword puzzles for me to answer.  I miss the way you’d keep me hydrated because you didn’t want me to get sick.  I miss how your dancing cracks me up and how your voice blows my mind.  I miss hugging you and falling asleep next to you on the tour bus and… fuck._

_I miss you so much it hurts, goddamn it._

_I shouldn’t have said I love you if I had known I’d lose all of that.  I’d take it back if I could, but then I’d be lying to you.  And to myself._

_Because I’m still fucking in love with you, David James.  And I need to know, before you leave.’_

David swipes frantically at his eyes.

_‘I need to know if you love me too.’_

 

* * *

**_And maybe that was the biggest mistake of my life  
_ ** **_And maybe I haven't moved on since that night_ **

* * *

 

  _‘I just need an answer.  If you don’t feel the same way, then just tell me.  Anything is so much better than this silence, this fucking void you’re leaving me behind with.  Because your friendship is the most important thing in the world for me, and I can’t lose that.  I can’t lose you.  I’d give up my stupid feelings for you if it meant I’d have you again._

_I need you back in my life, Arch.  I need to know I still have you even when you’re gone.  I know I can’t stop you from leaving.  But please… don’t leave me hanging like this._

_Tell me if I have something to hold on to.  Otherwise…’_

His cheeks feel wet, and David squeezes his eyes shut.

‘ _… tell me to let you go.’_  

 

* * *

**_'Cause it's 12:51 and I thought my feelings were gone  
_** **_But I'm lying on my bed thinking of you again  
_** **_And the moon shines so bright, but I gotta dry these tears tonight  
_** **_‘Cause you're moving on and I'm not that strong to hold on any longer_ **

* * *

 

Days turn into weeks, which soon turn into months.  His cellphone remains buried at the bottom of his bag, and the words remain buried at the back of his mind.  David throws himself into his mission, the invisible bleeding of his heart momentarily forgotten at the genuine, grateful smiles of the people in this beautiful country, their warm companionship and ready acceptance a temporary balm to the wound that show no signs of healing.

It’s only when he retires at night and wraps his blanket tightly around himself that it feels like a straitjacket instead, keeping him precariously sane when the weight of his own silence bears down heavily upon him.

He still hasn’t answered that text.  It’s not because he isn’t allowed to use his phone — although that _is_ partly the legitimate reason.  And it’s also not because he doesn’t know what to say.

He curls up tighter into himself as he clutches at his chest.  Inside him, it feels like another of his heartstrings has snapped.

It’s because he knows exactly what he _should_ say… and he doesn’t want to say it.

  

* * *

**_Then I saw you with her  
_** **_Didn't think you'd find another  
_** **_And my world just seemed to crash  
_ ** ******_Shouldn't have thought that this would last_**

* * *

  

Not many people in Chile know about _American Idol_ , but those who do know about _both_ of them; it seems that no matter where in the world David goes, people can’t imagine one without the other.

(Before today, David couldn’t, either.)

So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that, nearly a year into his mission, one of David Cook’s fans has come up to _him_ … to ask about _her_.

“Is she the new girlfriend?” the enthusiastic young girl asks him in Spanish as she shows him the images on her phone.

David has never experienced being drunk—after all, he isn’t allowed to consume any form of alcohol, _ever_ —but he thinks this is what it must feel like: the world spinning beneath his feet, his body swaying as he suddenly feels lightheaded, and his vision blacking out for a heart-stopping moment.

He doesn’t remember what he answered then.  He only remembers thinking: this is it.  This is the sign he has been waiting for.

… So why does it feel like his world has just ended?

  

* * *

**_And maybe that was the biggest mistake of my life  
_ ** **_And maybe I haven't moved on since that night_ **

* * *

 

“I need a favour.”

“Does it involve doing something illegal?”

“… Maybe.”

“… I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Elder Archuleta…”

“Please.  I… I just need this one night.”

“What are you planning?”

“… I need you to cover for me.”

 

* * *

**_'Cause it's 12:51 and I thought my feelings were gone  
_** **_But I'm lying on my bed thinking of you again  
_** **_And the moon shines so bright, but I gotta dry these tears tonight  
_** **_‘Cause you're moving on and I'm not that strong to hold on any longer_ **

* * *

 

David isn’t sure how they managed to pull it off, but maybe miracles happen in this way too, because here he is now, locking himself inside a private room he has been granted.  It’s his personal day, the only time of the week when he’s allowed to use a computer with internet access, and as far as everyone knows, there’s nothing unusual about what he’s doing at the moment.

Except this time, there’s a web cam sneaked inside and attached to the computer.

With trembling fingers, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the _other_ object he has sneaked inside—one that he has refused to look at in over a year.

Now, he clutches it tightly as if it’s his only lifeline left.  

He swipes at the screen… and reads that message one more time.

‘ _I’m still in love with you.’_

He takes a deep breath.  His movements are slow, careful, measured.  It feels like his bones are about to fall apart and shatter.

He places his cellphone next to the computer on the table.  He powers on the monitor and opens the video recorder.  He clicks on the record button.  The light blinks, and he looks straight into the camera.

“Hey Cookie,” he says softly.  “It’s your boy, Archie.”

 

* * *

**_As the sky outside gets brighter  
_** **_And my eyes begin to tire  
_ ** ******_I'm slowly drowning in memories of him_**  

* * *

 

“I just wanted you to know that… I received your message.  The one you sent at exactly 12:51 last year.  This is… my reply.  I’m sorry it took so long.  I have absolutely no excuse.  You have every right to be angry with me.  If we were face to face, I’d even allow you to punch me, if you wanted to.  I’d… I’d deserve it, for… for leaving you hanging.”

His throat is constricting, and it feels like he can barely breathe, but he bravely soldiers on.

“I’m not sure you really know… what kind of person you’re in love with.  You’re in love with…”  David pauses as he flutters his hands helplessly in an all-encompassing gesture.  “All of this.  This is… who I am.  And this is the kind of life I lead.  It’s a life of… constant distance and separation.  A life of self-sacrifice.  A life of service under a Church that… doesn’t recognise the kind of love you feel for me.”

He lets his hands fall to his lap as his shoulders slump resignedly.  

“You’re… you’re a good man, Cook.  The best man I’ve ever known.”  He swallows as he fails to conceal the emotion behind his words, and decides to stop trying. “And… you deserve to be happy.  You deserve someone who… will always be there.  Who will give you the kind of love that you can shout from the rooftops.  A love that you don’t have to hide.  A love that society won’t… crucify you for.”

The hands on his lap tighten into fists.

“You’re in love with a coward, Cook.  And that… that is the real reason why it took me this long to answer.  Because even now… I can’t face the truth that… that… _dang it._ ”

The sob bursts out of him all of a sudden, and his chin drops to his chest at the sheer intensity of everything he has been holding back until then.  

“I can’t face the truth that you will never be happy with me.”

 

* * *

**_And I know it shouldn't matter  
_** **_As my heart begins to shatter  
_** **_I'm left to wonder  
_ ** ******_Just how it should have been_**

* * *

 

“I miss you too, you know.  There isn’t a day I don’t think of you.  You’re… you’re my first thought when I wake up, and the last before I fall asleep.  I see you… everywhere.  In the sky, in the clouds… I remember you singing about gravity, and the stars.  When I hear someone laugh, I always think of you, and… yours is still my favourite sound in the whole world.  Nothing… and no one else… will ever compare.”

He desperately wants to wipe his eyes and his face, but his hands remain frozen on his lap.  So he stares into that camera through his blurred vision, helpless to stop the tears from streaming freely down his cheeks.

“You asked me to tell you… what you should do.  I don’t think… you need me to tell you that, anymore.  You’ve always been so much stronger and braver than me.  And you… already did the right thing, even when I couldn’t.”

And even as he can’t see in front of him anymore, the smile he bestows upon the camera is sincere and heartfelt.

“And… she’s beautiful.”

 

* * *

**_12:51 and I thought my feelings were gone  
_** **_But I'm lying on my bed  
_ ** ******_I'm not thinking of you again_**

* * *

  

“Be happy, Cook.  The way… the way you can never be happy with me.”

He pauses to take a deep, shuddering breath.  He forces his fingers to unclench and he wipes at his face with the back of his hand.

“You asked me… if I was in love with you.”

A gentle, watery chuckle escapes him.

“I guess… all these years… I was a better actor than I thought.”

 

* * *

**_And the moon shines so bright, but I gotta dry these tears tonight  
_** **_'Cause you're moving on and I'm not that strong to hold on  
_**

* * *

  

He closes his eyes as he slows his erratic breathing.  When he next opens them, the smile he gives the camera is steadier now, too.

“I will always be your Archie.  No matter where I go, or who I’m with… nothing, and no one, will ever change that.”

 

* * *

**_'Cause I'll prove you wrong that I can move on through this song_ **

* * *

 

“I guess you’ve never really realised it.”

His gaze softens.

“… I’ve always been yours.”

  

* * *

**_So much stronger_ **

* * *

  

The hesitant knocking at the door pulls him out of the dazed trance he hasn’t realised he has been caught up in for… he doesn’t even know for how long.  He’s been staring unseeingly at the latest sent item in his e-mail for a while now.

“They’re about to come back soon,” the voice outside the door says gently.  “Whatever it is you have to do, I hope you finish it soon.”

He looks at the attached video on that e-mail… and at the all-too-familiar e-mail address of the recipient.

“Yeah, um…” he inhales deeply as he forces himself to stand on shaky legs.  “I’ll be out in a while.  Just… would you… would you mind giving me a few more minutes?”

There’s a significant, understanding pause at the other side of the door.  “Okay,” is the soft answer, before David hears footsteps slowly walking away, giving him both the time _and_ space that he needs to pull himself together.

He powers down the computer and hides the camera safely out of sight.  He runs both hands over his face one last time to make sure it’s completely dry, before he reaches out to take his cellphone.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when it suddenly vibrates in his hand.

He stares at the screen — and his heart leaps to his throat.

He sits shakily back down.  Tremblingly… he answers the call.

“… _Cook?_ ”

 

 


End file.
